


The Pull of Grief

by misskayeedee



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Ben Solo Needs A Hug, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Hurt/Comfort, I am sorry but Leia died, Implied Relationships, POV Rey (Star Wars), Post-Star Wars: The Last Jedi, don't hate me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 12:52:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13100520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misskayeedee/pseuds/misskayeedee
Summary: It was several months before she chose to acknowledge him again.It had been so long since she had felt him that way, and seen him so clearly, that when she finally made sense of their surroundings and what was happening, she almost smacked him in her haste to leave his bed.Post - The Last Jedi.





	The Pull of Grief

It was several months before she chose to acknowledge him again.

However much she insisted it didn’t matter, she could feel him the entire time. Feel his seething ocean of emotions through hours and days and weeks of torturing, training, and molding the First Order to be what he would make of it.

Not even sleep could save her from the fuzzy notions of his subconscious, no matter how hard she struggled to push him away, to sever the tie that bound them so intimately.

And then his mother died.

A Princess and a General, so strong and resilient, to lose a battle that she had no strategy for. No defense against.

Rey couldn’t hide it from him no more than she could stop breathing.

No more than he could hide his emotions from her once he discerned the truth.

First came surprise and disbelief, peppered with childish insults as he struggled against the reality of what it all meant. For the first time since they had been joined, he pushed her away as roughly as she did him. And it was quiet for a long time, save his sporadic attempts to catch her in a lie that wasn’t there.

Then came the horrible, horrible grief that led to a manic fugue that lasted weeks. Death and violence and shame poured from him in waves that had Rey smelling blood in her dreams and waking covered in sweat.

And then all at once, their connection dropped to a remorseful whisper. A gentle drag of his fingertips across her palm, and the smell of the salt sea on Ahch-To.

It had been so long since she had felt him that way, and seen him so clearly, that when she finally made sense of their surroundings and what was happening, she almost smacked him in her haste to leave his bed.

Not that it mattered at all to him. Instead, he was very much trying to ignore that she was there at all. Because if she was there, then what did that mean for him and what he was? What did she mean to him?

Rey shifted uncomfortably as his thoughts brushed her.

He was leaning against a rigid headboard, chest bare once more. His eyes had dark shadows under them, and his jaw was set so stubbornly that Rey’s heart ached sharply.

Why did he have to look so much like his father?

But great, ugly, vulnerable tears were pouring down his cheeks and pooling into the scar that Rey had left on his face. The proud lift of his chin dared her to say something.

Rey sighed.

“This is ridiculous,” he rumbled, so low that she couldn’t really hear him, so much as know inside that was what he was saying. An awkward silence held as he waited for her to say something.

Honestly, Rey didn’t know if she wanted to say anything. She didn’t want to do anything at all, really, except leave.

“Then go,” he snapped at her, as soon as the thought formed in her head. The silence turned deadly.

As much as Rey wanted to leave him to his prolonged grief, his emotions were screaming at her that he did not want it one bit.

The longer she stood there, staring into his large brown eyes, the more he shrank before her. Unable to capitalize on her fear, his size and strength diminished until she felt like she towered over him.

His shoulders began to shake, and his muscles convulsed against great wracking sobs. Strong arms wrapped around his knees and hugged them tight to his chest.

“Why won’t you just leave?” His voice cracked on the last word.

Rey squeezed her eyes shut.

She didn’t want to see him like this. It was just another reason to lower her guard around him, when he had given her nothing so far as heartbreak and disaster. Another reason to want to embrace him with open arms.

Because in this moment in time, Kylo Ren was only Ben Solo. And Ben Solo was just a young man, crying for his parents.

“Mother,” he whimpered. Rey felt his sobs start in the pit of her stomach, and her legs wobbled as his unchecked grief bowled into her with the speed of light. “Father, I’m sorry.”

She forced herself to look at him; to see his shaking shoulders as he howled into his kneecaps. To witness his pain, and the truth that it was just a man before her. A broken man.

“I’m sorry for what I did,” he moaned. “Please don’t leave me.”

And then all Rey could see was the red sands of Jakku and the battered transport turning away towards the horizon. Tears bubbled up in her throat as her grief rose to meet his.

“I am so sorry,” he pleaded to the empty air, but her throat ached as if they were saying it together. To their dead. To each other. “I am sorry, just please don’t leave me alone again.”

Loss. Crippling loneliness. So deep they could both be lost to it, and no one would be the wiser.

Was there anything so bad as being left to face the galaxy by the ones you loved most?

A hot tear rolled down Rey’s cheek, and she lurched forward to sit on the edge of his bed.

“Ben,” she whispered, and reached to touch his shoulder.

His skin was clammy and feverish under her fingertips, but almost immediately the intensity of physical contact proved too much, and he jerked away. For a moment, his sobs came out louder and higher in pitch as he struggled to align her grief with his.

“Ben, please.” New tears slipped down her cheeks as she saw Leia and Han as Ben had; indestructible, fierce, and tragically absent for much of his childhood. The War was good for no one and nothing, least of all the children left behind.

How long had he waited for them to come home and hold him? How long had she waited?

The deluge of emotion was too much for Rey to bear. It needed to stop. If only for a while.

Rey took several deep gulps of air as if preparing to dive into the sea. Before he could stop her, she reached over and grabbed Ben’s wrists, tugging them away from his knees. And carefully, pulling and nudging him gently, she revealed him to her gaze once more.

Pure dumbfounded surprise in his soft eyes. His skin was blotchy and pale and his lips, too full for his face, trembled like a child after a scolding.

So beautiful. Imperfect. Human.

Uncomfortable under her scrutiny, he tried to turn away from her.

Keeping her eyes locked on his, Rey leaned back against his pillows and kicked her bare feet up onto the cold sheets. Adjusting her grip on his wrists, she pulled him down to her, his arms wrapping around her waist.

He fought her gently, unwilling to allow this sort of connection when just breathing the same air was a painful enough reminder of what he had done to separate them.

But eventually he relented, and allowed her to settle him into her side. His tear soaked face pressed into her chest, and he dissolved into uncontrollable shivering as her fingers carded through his tangled black hair.

One by one, his muscles relaxed, and his long legs stretched out past hers. The thudding of his heart against her stomach slowed to match the beat of hers against his scarred cheek. His palms sat open and flat against her lower back, ghosting over her spine as if it were a life line.

Her sleeping gown was soaked through with his tears before long.

Rey stared at the ceiling, vision blurred by tears of her own and hummed. A tuneless hum that she continued until she was singing to him softly. It was a song that she may have heard in the junkyard on Jakku. Or maybe even before then. She wasn’t really sure.

Singing wasn’t something she was particularly good at. And although she felt Ben cough out a wet chuckle in agreement, his arms wrapped tighter around her, and he nudged his nose into her sternum, and she knew that it was right for her to continue.

The night wore on, and Rey’s eyelids grew heavier and heavier.

Ben’s warm weight blanketed her against the chill of open space, and soon his even breathing transformed into the soft snoring of light sleep.

It would be time to leave soon.

As soon as the idea formed in her head, he jolted awake, arms tightening around her waist before softening once more. A yawn stretched his face, and he looked up at her with tear-weary eyes.

It was like he was seeing her for the first time since Snoke’s ship. And there was something in his eyes that made Rey’s heart pound against her ribcage.

“Don’t leave me,” he said sleepily, nuzzled his face into her and was promptly asleep once more.

It was almost funny how sensitive he was. Almost childlike in how willing he was to open himself to her after all they had seen together. How he expressed his unabashed need.

But she felt the need too.

A pull that dragged her mind halfway across the galaxy to the bed of a man she should want to kill. A man who had killed his own father, and just as quickly spared her life to kill one of the most dangerous beings to use the Force. A man that she had nestled in her embrace as if a lover, and not an enemy.

It was almost funny.

They had never been in proximity when sleeping. And at first Rey was frightened by how closely their dreams wove together. Flashes of futures missed and opportunities still sought. 

Cities; grand and peaceful and thriving under the New Order. A laugh from Leia and Han as they watched Chewbacca struggle with the porgs that made the Falcon their new home.

Rey and Ben, together in the Force. Strong and fierce and passionate. Embracing both sides of the Balance; she soothing his Darkness, and him fueling her Light. Beside each other in all things. Bodies, hearts, and souls combing to bring new life to the Force.

Master Luke teaching a young girl with Ben’s dark hair and eyes to hold her lightsaber correctly.

Rey’s eyes snapped open.

In the time they had been sleeping, they had changed positions. Ben was curved behind her now, her back pressed to his chest and the lines of her body melded to his. His chapped lips were on the nape of her neck, and his right hand wrapped around her front to cup her breast. Though she should have felt afraid and unsure, she felt peace seeping from his palm through her skin and into her heart.

More tears slipped from Rey’s eyes.

Those dreams were just that; dreams.

He was awake now, lips brushing her shoulder and neck as he waited for her to acknowledge what they had seen together. It was all she could do not to settle deeper into the warmth of his body and shut her eyes again. It would be so easy to dream with him, to create with him. They were equals in every way, and she could see that now.

“Come to me, Rey,” he breathed against her neck, and she tingled from her toes to her scalp. “We could have it all. Even her.”

Together they would never be alone again.

“No, Ben,” she replied sadly.

And she was gone.

**Author's Note:**

> Rey and Ben are two halves of the same, very lonely, coin. The Pull won't let them stay apart for long.
> 
> Truthfully, I feel that Ben went to the Dark side in order to cull relationships he felt hurt him over time. Which is why he didn't hate Han, but killed him anyways. Ben was through being hurt by people. He wanted to take control of the hurting. Not a good strategy, but I digress.
> 
> And as much as I love Han and Leia, I find it extremely hard to believe that they would have had the time to care for a young child during the Restructure of the Republic and the subsequent wars with the First Order.
> 
> Ben doesn't choose to acknowledge Luke, because in my brain, Luke is a man that Ben will never accept as truly gone. Ben can feel Luke watching him in the Force, and may still even resent him for how Luke's distrust pushed him further to the Dark and farther from Rey. Maybe I will write something about Ben coming to terms with that.
> 
> I know that Daisy Ridley is actually an awesome singer. But I feel like Rey needs to suck at something, even just a little. She is so awesome and has so many other talents.
> 
> Also, Adam Driver has both the best crying face and the best "I wanna fuck" voice and it is very confusing.


End file.
